


Petite Amie

by ThebanSacredBand



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dogs, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 23:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14988266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThebanSacredBand/pseuds/ThebanSacredBand
Summary: Lieutenant Caleb Brewster is Major Benjamin Tallmadge’s best friend and Ben would do almost anything for him, and that’s why he has been hiding a small dog in his tent for the past week. He shouldn’t have a dog. He doesn’t want a dog. But apparently he is unable to deny Caleb anything.In which Ben ends up looking after a dog, and she proves more capable than most of the continental army.





	Petite Amie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nemainofthewater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemainofthewater/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Three times Charlotte was a good girl, and one time she was the best girl](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14371458) by [Nemainofthewater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemainofthewater/pseuds/Nemainofthewater). 



February 1780

Lieutenant Caleb Brewster is Major Benjamin Tallmadge’s best friend and Ben would do almost anything for him, and that’s why he has been hiding a small dog in his tent for the past week. He shouldn’t have a dog. He doesn’t _want_ a dog. But apparently he is unable to deny Caleb anything.

Caleb had found her whimpering at the side of the road on his way back from Setauket, and smuggled her into camp along with Culper’s latest information. And she’s only a puppy, poor thing, she wouldn’t last more than a few days living outside in this time of year, please Ben, I’d take her into my own tent but you’ve not gotta share with anyone else.  
Caleb had looked up at Ben with pleading eyes, and the dog had done the same, and so here was Ben with a new friend sleeping at the foot of his bed.

As far as he knew, no-one knew of the dog’s existence except for the two of them. It wasn’t that dogs weren’t _allowed_ at camp, per se, but he still felt for some reason that Washington might be disappointed with him if he knew. And that was good enough reason for Ben to keep her a secret.

He’s sure he’ll be able to turf her outside once it gets to spring.

 

April 1780

It’s spring, and the dog is still sleeping in Ben’s tent, despite the warmer weather. He’d been trying so hard not to get attached, even going so far as to not give her a name, much to Caleb’s annoyance (“How about we call her –” “She’s sleeping in my tent, so she’s my dog Caleb, and if I want to call her ‘the dog’ then I will”.)

Somehow, though, she had still managed to worm her way into Ben’s heart, and when the weather started to take a turn for the better, he couldn’t bring himself to make her leave.  
It’s night, and Ben’s in his tent, working by candlelight to try and get this last letter finished so he can send it off for Washington tomorrow. The dog is curled up on his lap as he scribbles away. He’s almost finished, he can almost turn in, he-

“Tallmadge –” Ben’s head snaps up to see Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton standing in the entrance to his tent, his mouth hanging open and his eyes glued to the dog, who has woken up at the intrusion and is staring up at Hamilton inquisitively. She makes a small noise, and Hamilton’s face suddenly splits into a grin. He ducks out of the tent again before Ben can even ask what he came in for.

He’s back almost as soon as he left, dragging a baffled Marquis de Lafayette along behind him.

“No, Lafayette, I promise this is important, look, I finally discovered the identity of Tallmadge’s _petite amie_.” Lafayette’s eyes widen, then narrow, looking around before finally alighting on the dog, who had jumped down from Ben to say hello to the intruders. He crouches down to pat her head, making cooing noises.

“What is her name _monsieur_?” The Frenchman asks, and it takes a few seconds for Ben to register the question.

“She, ah, she doesn’t have one…”

“ _Non_? But she must. How about _Amie_ , perhaps?” He gives a smirk, looking up at Ben from where he is now sat, the dog – well, _Amie_ , now, Ben supposes – licking his face. Ben can feel his face burning.

“You must understand, Tallmadge, people kept hearing noises from your tent, so we all presumed you had taken a lover. We’ve had a wager, going, actually, amongst the aides, as to what she was like, though I suppose we’ve all lost now…” Hamilton continues talking. Ben plants his face into his desk. Caleb is never going to let him hear the end of this.

 

July 1780

_Amie_ – or Amy, as the non-French speaking members of the camp have taken to calling her – has become a regular feature at Ben’s heels. Which is rather annoying, really, seeing as she was originally supposed to be Caleb’s dog, but well, things are how they are.

Washington hadn’t been disappointed, at least not visibly, much to Ben’ relief, but he still wasn’t exactly approving. But as long as Amy wasn’t causing any actual trouble or getting under anyone’s feet, he seemed willing to let her follow him around.

She seemed to like most of the soldiers, especially Washington’s aides-de-camp, which was good as they were the men she spent the most time around. She seemed rather fond of John Laurens, and Ben was almost certain the Lieutenant Colonel was sneaking her scraps of food when he wasn’t watching. There was, however, one member of the army that Amy was always hostile to; Major General Benedict Arnold.

Ben had always got along with Arnold, or at least felt sorry for him for not getting the recompense he deserved for his achievements. But Amy being unfriendly to him made him uneasy. He tried not to show it – what would people think, him trusting a dog?! – but, well, maybe there was something different about Arnold since he came back from Philadelphia?

He’d at least keep an eye on him, if only from a distance. Who knows? His instincts had been right before.

 

September 1780

Something’s wrong. They’ve captured a British spy, but things don’t add up, somehow. 

Ben doesn’t have time to figure it out before Amy has run off, disappearing into the forest. And damn it, she’s too important to Ben for him to let her run of into the middle of nowhere. Who knows, maybe she’s onto something.

So he orders the nearby soldiers to watch both the captive and his captors, and he runs.

He speeds up when he hears barking, and a sudden shout. Emerging on a bank, he finds Amy, her teeth firm around Arnold’s ankle. He’s too busy trying to shake her off notice Ben approaching him from behind. Ben hits him round the back of the head with the butt of his gun, and Arnold crumples to the floor. Amy jumps on top of his prone body, growling, but Ben scoops her up into his arms, holding her close. He couldn’t have caught Arnold fleeing without her, if he’d waited any longer for any evidence against Arnold he would have been too late. But right now, he’s just glad his dog isn’t hurt.

“Benny boy!” Caleb appears out of the trees. “It was Arnold, he’s a traitor, didya get –” he cuts off when he sees Arnold crumpled on the floor with small bloody teeth marks round his ankle. “Hell, looks like I didn’t have to ride that fast after all, our girl knew he was bad all along.”

They meet each-other’s eyes, and suddenly neither of the can stop laughing. Who’d have thought that the small dog Caleb found at the side of the road would be able to catch a traitor? Neither of them notice when other soldiers, and General Washington himself, approach the bank.

“Benjamin.” Ben freezes, and turns to face Washington.

“Your Excellency, sir.” He’s still holding Amy, but it’s too late now to put her down, so he supposes he’ll just have to face him holding the dog the whole time.

“What you have done here today –”

“I, uh, it was nothing, sir, really. Amy here did all the hard work.” He’s stuttering, and he’s probably going red, and he shouldn’t have cut the general off, what is he doing?  
Washington gives him a warm smile, and grasps his shoulder.

“Thank you, Benjamin.” He drops his and down to pat Amy on the head. “And you too, Amy.”

Ben can feel himself beaming. They’ve captured two spies. Washington has thanked him. And all thanks to one small dog.

Maybe it’s a good thing Ben can’t deny Caleb anything.


End file.
